


Hooked on Blue

by Baby_Fangirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-16 08:53:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baby_Fangirl/pseuds/Baby_Fangirl
Summary: Set in an AU verse, where Ivy is the daughter of the prestigious school headmistress, Victoria. She has everything; looks, popularity, a boyfriend.Until her life is quite literally turned upside down by a girl with blue eyes.





	1. The Milkshake Incident

**Author's Note:**

> Hi All! I was hit with this small wave of inspiration for this... Shamelessly, I have no idea where I'm going with this story, so Wish me luck! And give me inspiration! All my love ~Baby Fangirl

Weather stereotypes are stupid.

Such a common belief that spread around like wildfire, was that everyone was bound to have a miserable day when the sky was grey and dull, and the clouds formed like determined troops to block the sun from its right to shine. It would definitely be a miserable day when the rain began to fall, whether a drizzle or harsh winds accompanied the buckets that were poured from heaven.  

Did the mathematicians figure this equation? Grey plus dull plus rain equals misery?

And who was to assume that bright sunny days, filled with birds chirping, the smell of fresh air and the warmth of the sun radiating on your skin meant that every hour would be filled with happiness and rainbows? The sun had nothing to do with the emotional outlook on life.

For Tilly sat in the passenger seat of the car with a warm and untouched chocolate milkshake in her grip, staring out bleakly at the day ahead of her. It was her first day of college at Burbanks Prep, even if she was three weeks late into the semester, but the golden sun was warmly shining, a light breeze caused the emerald grass to sway in harmony, and… there it was, some bird singing out its tiny little heart as if to welcome her personally… and she couldn’t help but feel miserable.

It took a lot for the usually energetic blonde to feel miserable; she’d left her foster home in pure delight, unable to wait to start a new chapter in a boarding school that the council was paying for her.

However, it had been an agonising two hour drive to her campus and Mage, her foster mother, had thoroughly explained that college was purely to get Tilly out of the way now that the couple where expecting a child of their own, and there was no place for a seventeen year old at their table.

She’d loosely referred to Burbanks Prep as a prison sentence. So all of Tilly’s aspiring hopes for yet another fresh start where crumbled.

“What are you waiting for? A goodbye kiss? Kiss a textbook and get out of my car,” Madge hissed as she yanked off her glasses promptly to scowl at her the scruffily dressed blonde, and Tilly didn’t hesitate to scramble out of the front seat, hauling her worn Rucksack.

As soon as the door shut, the car was speeding off, leaving the girl on the sidewalk in front her new college, on a beautiful falsely stereotypical sunny day, miserable.

 

Ivy determinedly tugged at the lapels of her blouse, silently pleading for the collar to open further. She despised the uniform that she, along with two-hundred other students were forced to wear. The brunette could get away with rolling up her skirt so that it brushed against her thighs instead of her knees; and she rolled up the cuffs of the white top above her elbows… not to mention her standard shoes had an extra three inches on the heel. But try as she might, Ivy Belfrey could not manage to show her collarbone without undoing more than the first two buttons.

It felt so good being one of the only girls to dare push the rules of the prestigious college without so much as a telling off… and the only reason that Ivy got away with it; was the simple fact that all her teachers feared her mother, Victoria Belfrey, the headmistress.

Her first class had started fifteen minutes ago, and the girl was in no rush to turn up; knowing that the professor would shout at her anyway, and she’d just grumble miserable to her boyfriend who would in turn, wrap an arm around her and tell her she was being dramatic.

Gregor was captain of the rugby team, tall, good-looking and actually very sweet. All the girls wanted him so naturally, Ivy had to have him, and it was nice. A cliché couple, that everybody voted for as prom king and queen.

It was _nice_ , but not… show-stopping.

When Belfrey was finally happy with her reflection; the girl handled her bag on one shoulder; sighing before leaving her dorm. Another perk of being the headmistress’ daughter, she was the only girl in the whole school who didn’t have to share a room.

 

Ivy was finally on her way to class, scrolling through her phone as she strutted through the hallways like she dominated every corridor. A smirk began to form in the corner of her lips, finding some senseless rumour on Twitter, until all of a sudden, she crashed into something. Something tall and soft and… blonde.

Belfrey stumbled slightly back, her shirt soaking with goodness-knows what, her high heels wobbling and before she could lose her balance all together and hit the floor, the girl was unexpectedly clinging to someone’s hand, proudly keeping both of them upright.

“I’d say watch where you’re going but you’re the first pretty face I’ve seen ‘round here, so I’ll keep my mouth shut,” the tone was cheerful and accented. Ivy’s dark gaze followed the hand that was supporting her, up to see a girl she didn’t recognize; wavy honeycomb hair slightly mussed, a confident grin on her colourless lips and blue eyes that matched the sky.

The stranger wore boots that had obviously seen better days; thick grey tights with noticeable holes, an unfashionable brown skirt and an ugly oversized coat that was too big that the sleeves had to be doubled over twice. She also wore mismatched jewellery and a hand-crafted ring on her hand that now held an empty plastic cup. Had this girl no idea what uniform was?

The front of her white blouse was now stained thoroughly with what looked a lot like chocolate and Ivy’s lips where parted in horrible shock… “And I’d say keep your milkshake to yourself. You cannot be one to believe that sharing is caring!” the brunette huffed, trying to wipe the brown stain with her phone case, glowering softly. Was it in her hair? Did she have milkshake stains on her bra too?

Twisting a lock of golden hair around her fingers, the girl offered an apologetic grin, before jumping to attention and tried to help rub out the stain with her bare hands, effectively spreading the chocolate.

 “If you don’t mind me saying… brown suits you great!” she chirped, giving in and stuck out a milkshake covered hand. “The name’s Tilly!”

Ivy glanced up in disbelief, making no effort to shake for their much less appealing introduction. “Okay,” the girl mumbled before groaning in frustration. Her blouse was ruined.

 “And you are?” Tilly playfully prompted, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, all the while fixing Belfrey with what seemed to be an obnoxiously permanent smile.

“Late. I’m late. And I’m covered in chocolate milkshake!” Ivy snapped, her cheeks were slowly warming with pure embarrassment, and she could feel the liquid clinging to her shirt and her skin.

A thoughtful glance appeared on Tilly’s brow, obviously contemplating before she dropped her rucksack onto the floor and shrugged out of her horrific green jacket and held it purposefully out to the brunette. “I’m late, for a very important date,” she chimed gleefully, her sky-blue gaze washing over the other girl.

“I know you got this whole reputation thing going on… but it’s either my jacket or chocolate sticking to your chest for the whole school to see,” Tilly grinned teasingly, laughing delightedly when the other girl begrudgingly too her coat.

Ivy could detect a hint of ginger and jasmine on the girl’s coat, engulfed entirely by the material. She couldn’t help but think of her own designer jackets: YSL, Valentino, Ferragamo and Louis Vouton… all neatly hanging in her closet, clean, and comfortable… yet here she was, feeling like a goddamn penguin.

“I suppose I ought to be grateful,” Ivy mumbled, feeling as if the coat was eating her. Would anyone even find her attractive? Would she start a negative hashtag trend online? Ivy could already see it #HumiliatedandDefiled … when did fashion disasters come to sound like a porn search? Holy fuck! Maybe she’d end up on YouTube and not in the good way!

Tilly shook her head, waves of soft honey bouncing over her shoulders. “Nah… I did ruin your pretty shirt… I owe you one… Two if you can help me find my Maths class.” The blonde grinned hopefully, straightening her red and back checked shirt before hauling her bag back over her shoulder. “I ain’t got a sense of direction,”

Rolling her eyes, Ivy finally relented, nodding as she continued her elegant strut down the corridor, now with the bouncy and ecstatic blonde in tow.

“They ain’t gonna be too mad that we’re late… are they?” Tilly perked up, arms swinging as she took ridiculously long steps to stride alongside the Belfrey, cutting through her silence without the slightest incursion of awkwardness.

“No… you’re new. Professor Weaver isn’t that bad, he’ll just have us tidy his classroom as payment some time,” Ivy grumbled, not in the mood for talking.

“Hey,” Tilly announced suddenly, making Ivy jump and almost expect another milkshake attack, but the blonde only grinned and shrugged, “I still don’t know your name,”

The brunette rolled her eyes, digging her hands into the deep pockets, messing around with what felt like a cube on a keychain. “It’s Ivy… Ivy Belfrey,”

Tilly grinned as though she just inherited a small fortune, “Well then, Miss Ivy, Ivy Belfrey, lead the way! You know I’ll follow you anywhere!” she teased, bouncing her shoulders slightly.

Eventually, she stumbled into class, followed by Tilly who was smiling rather shyly. Ivy left her following companion like baggage at the door, slipping into the seat next to Gregor, not hesitating to lean her head against his shoulder.

 

This was a disaster.

 

* * *

 

 

Shower.

That’s what Ivy needed more than anything as she tore herself from the groups slowly filing out of class. She’d lingered behind to explain to her boyfriend why exactly she looked homeless instead of hot, and of course he showered her with compliments anyway… it was almost sickly.

But not as sickly as the chocolate that had dried on her cleavage…

Escaping up to her room was easy, she was popular yes, but not many people would willingly engage with her of their own accord, especially when the Belfrey had that look in her eyes, the fire of determination that could kill a man with one glare.

Ivy slammed shut the door to her neatly organized dorm room, chest heaving in result of her pounding heart and loss of breath after making the impressive sprint up the two flights of stairs which would’ve easily gotten her onto the girls track team. She hated running… but she hated the idea of being caught in this coat.

She let her forehead rest lightly against the cold door, inhaling deeply before slamming the lock across, instantly feeling at ease. Her second of calm serenity vanished as soon as it had come. For now, in her dorm room, somebody else was waiting for her.

The girl was standing in the middle of the room like a celebrity, confidently self-assured as she shifted her backpack that hung off one shoulder. That god-awful smile never vanished… but it grew when the brunette turned to face her.

“See you’re returning my coat already,” Tilly beamed, fiddling with one of the many bangles on her wrist.

“What the hell are you doing in my room?!” Belfrey demanded answers, her head was spinning. This day was terrible… where had the stubborn girl sprouted from and why now was she suddenly in the way of everything?

Tilly smiled still and Ivy swallowed thickly, afraid that she had already guessed the horrific answer.

“Ah, Ivy… Ivy Belfrey, I’m your roommate as of today!” a dramatic bow left the brunette speechless as Tilly flipped her back to grin at the girl, still bowing low.

 

This wasn’t happening.


	2. An Ounce of Effort

Whoever coined the expression ‘that good things come to those who wait’ must not have waited a very long time… or was drunk; because Ivy had waited a whole twenty-four hours for her mother to pull at least one of the strings in her firm grasp. She had suffered a whole day of waiting for an explanation as to why this girl was invading her space, better yet, waiting for Tilly’s evacuation.

But neither explanation or evacuation was forthcoming.

The young Belfrey perched on the bottom of her bed, pushing her long, raven hair over one shoulder before untangling her earphones as she glanced to the blondes sleeping frame in the bed three feet away. They had to move her dresser to set up a second bed and set of drawers and Ivy felt victimised. She even had to share her conjoining bathroom; meaning she now had to _plan_ showers just so the blue-eyed girl didn’t walk in on her.

Who _planned_ showers?

Tilly had taped her new timetable onto the wall above her bed, and out of curiosity Ivy had compared it to her own memorized schedule… besides replacing Belfrey’s theatre class with an art textiles workshop; they had the same classes, at the same time…

Maybe this was some punishment that her mother was subjecting her to.

 

Playing her music over her earphones, the brunette relocated to her desk, pulling open her laptop. She had left Facebook open. Ivy hadn’t seen Tilly with a phone, and hadn’t found the girl on any social media. She almost felt sorry for the girl who was internet deprived.

**Ivy Belfrey updated her Facebook status to- _barely surviving with the new invasion_.**

There, now the world could empathize with her.

 

Ivy clicked open a PDF file, a seven-page essay with the title of her homework, and copied the whole spreadsheet onto a new document, hovering only to change the date and add her name to the bottom.

She jumped a mile feeling one of her earphones being pulled out.

“That’s cheating,” Tilly pointed out matter-of-factly, leaning against Belfreys chair with an amused, lopsided grin painted on her lips.

Ivy snatched back her earphone before yanking the other one out too, letting her music distinctly play along quietly. “So?”

“You’re not _supposed_ to be cheating,” the blonde continued to scan the stolen essay. The headmistress’ daughter was very well aware of this girls warm breath ghosting the back of her neck and Ivy cursed her stupid self for shivering slightly.

“You’re not _supposed_ to be living with me,” she shrugged, the cursor faltering for only a second before clicking ‘save’.

 

The rest of her morning went without much problem. Ivy made it to breakfast and perched on Gregor’s lap, making sure to flirtatiously laugh whenever he said something funny to the rest of his Rugby team. She would accept the slice of apple that he fed to her, and ignore the sickly glances cast in their direction; Belfrey couldn’t help that she had the best of everything.

Yet Ivy couldn’t help but find that her dark, azure gaze flickered around the cafeteria for a familiar bounce of blonde tresses, or to seek out blue eyes staring back at her.

The team packed up for English and the happy couple led the way.

 

Tilly tried to remember the last time she’d sat in a classroom. Tapping her shortly-bitten nails on the desk, the blonde lounged back, grinning as she began to quietly rap out a steady beat. She’d taken a liking to this English teacher, he was easy-going, and knew how to teach. Professor Rodgers was also one of the only teachers who didn’t believe in treating his students any different because of their backgrounds.

He even let her keep her green jacket on over the top of her itchy uniform she was enforced to wear.

Tucking her pencil behind her ear, the girl let her brilliant blue gaze flit around the class room, trying to remember the names that matched the faces. Like a memory game! Tilly loved games and didn’t hesitate to begin her exciting new puzzle.

The two girls on her left were best friends, both slightly tanned with dark hair. Sabine and Jacinda. Sabine had introduced herself the day before, and brought her quieter friend into the limelight. Tilly liked them.

She also remembered the nerd in her class, always in one book or another… Henry. He answered a lot of the questions, but not in the insufferable know-it-all way, he was a sweet kid. Maybe if she swung that way, Henry would be an ideal…

There was still a fair few people she didn’t know; the blonde had a few suspicions about the names Alan and Janet. And of course, the classroom royalty; Gregory, Greg… Grindlewald? And Ivy.

Tilly understood that their introduction had been fatal, she’d ruined the girls shirt, pride and reputation, but it was fun! And she would do it again if given the opportunity. To say that Miss Belfrey was pretty was an understatement, and Tilly’s spinning world stopped for just a moment of clarity.

She wasn’t oblivious to the fact that the popular girl didn’t like the idea of having someone else in her room; Ivy was different and special. The brunette acted tough, but that could never fool someone like her. Tilly had been alone all her life, never properly forming a connective bond, she knew what loneliness looked like, and Ivy… Ivy Belfrey was the epitome of lonely.

 

The ringing of the bell signalling the end of class broke Tilly from her thoughts that had long since spiralled down a descending rabbit hole and the blonde jumped up ecstatically, approaching Ivy with a wide grin and purpose.

What was it with people and going out of their way to avoid this girl?

Tilly wasn’t foolish enough to believe that they were friends, but they were never going to be if she didn’t make the effort.

“That was boring,” The girl swung her arms distractedly, causing the brunette and her boyfriend to stop in their tracks. In an instant, the taller girl noticed that Ivy wasn’t used to such bold attention from someone like her, Belfreys mouth opening and closing for a moment before choosing an answer.

 “It wasn’t supposed to be entertaining. It was supposed to be informational.” She pointed out, shouldering her small bag as she leant into Gregor who was watching the exchange with soft, but neutral confusion.

“I guess, I sure did learn a lot, like as to why you don’t like people,” Tilly smiled triumphantly, after pretty much a whole hour, she believed that she had honestly cracked the code on Ivy’s life. The brunette narrowed her eyes, defensively leaning into Gregor’s side, remembering that he was supposed to take care of her.

“You don’t know anything; you don’t have the audacity to lecture me on my fondness of people when you have no people to be fond of,” Ivy snapped, hardly thinking about the words until after she’d heard them aloud. Even for her, that was a low bow.

Belfrey could see that innocent blue gaze gloss over with a guilt-tripping sheen of thin tears. “We have this for a whole year, Ivy… we got to find some way to deal with each other,” Tilly pointed out almost hopefully.

“I have one, it’s called stepping out of my way,” the brunette knew one thing better than anybody else her age… how to be ruthless. But when the girl relented, stepping aside in defeat, Ivy felt sick with herself, festering remorse lining her stomach.

She often taunted her step-sister; spoken harsher words to other girls, and had even made a geek cry, so why was the aftermath of this resentment suffocating her unlike so many others?

Ivy let Gregor sweep her from the hall, his casual embrace was not as comforting as it was supposed to be, in the stereotypical novel, his embrace was supposed to soothe her soul and calm her mind. But then again… Ivy had never had a soothe soul a single day of her life.

 

 

Tilly didn’t go down to Dinner. Classes had finished an hour earlier and the blonde slunk up to the dorm without talking to anyone. Yet again, she was miserable. The only highlight of her day was her first art class, and she’d been given a beautiful A-3 sketch book to work in.

She was an abstract worker, preferring to let her mind and her hand roam free with chalk, pencil, watercolor, instead of conforming to set lines and patterns. So Tilly was tucked away on her bed for a few hours, making herself a little burrow with her book propped on her lap.

The blonde had decorated the cover with the course title and had stitched red and white fabrics into the hardboard front, until she’d made a mushroom. Art helped to clear her mind, banishing away the fog that sometimes cast over her gaze, and as Tilly began to sketch inside of her book, she couldn’t help but wish that thing’s didn’t have to be so difficult.

Hidden beneath the spreadsheet on her bed, Tilly let the lamp shine through the material, her pencil working across the page until she’d drawn a slim woman, the model for her idealistic creations.

It wasn’t all too realistic.

It was an honest accident.

She hadn’t meant to make it look like Ivy.

* * *

 

“Listen! Listen, and then- then she said, ‘it’s called stepping out of my way’!” Gregor dramatically retold, revelling in the uproar of his teammates, one of them reaching to slap Ivy on the back with a cheer.

The six boys all sat clumped together on one of the long extending tables, tucking into potatoes and sausages, today’s glamourous menu. Ivy still felt sick and perched on the stool between Gregor and Bryce, staring at a small carrot on the end of her fork.

She didn’t want to be celebrated or congratulated for her wicked words, not when she had so visibly upset her roommate. Usually, Ivy was the one telling the stories of her victorious verbal battles, polishing her own trophies; but there was no way she could take pride in her actions.

“For heavens sake would you give it a rest already?” The brunette declared, slamming down her cutlery, causing a noisy clatter to arise from her barely touched plate and effectively silencing the guffawing boys. God, guys could be so senseless and stupid. “I know I said those things, but I’m starting to think that maybe I shouldn’t have,” Ivy explained in a gentler tone.

Did she honestly expect the rugby team to understand? It wasn’t as if she had any girlfriends to share these confusing emotions with.

“Yeah, but you were so hot, putting her in her place Ive,” Gregor smiled warmly, his pathetic attempt at cheering her up just caused Belfrey to groan in frustration, tugging her skirt down as she abruptly stood up, dramatically flipping her plate to the side.

The team laughed, seeing their captain wearing the potato, and Ivy frowned, storming from the dining hall, leaving the jeering crowd behind her.

The buzz of chatter was slowly drowned out by the rain on the windows. She had to make one stop to the vending machine before heading to her newly shared dorm room.

* * *

  

Tilly heard Ivy return with the tell-tale click of the lock followed by the heels strutting on wooden floor, all the while staying well and truly hidden in her one-person blanket fort. She couldn’t help but listen to her footsteps, her heart in her mouth hearing the heels stop, right by her bed. Instinctively, Tilly covered her drawing with one hand, just in case Ivy was drawn to pull the bed sheet from off her head.

But the footsteps resided, into the conjoining bathroom, and Tilly would hear the water of the shower running, the door close and finally, the blonde could breathe again.

Ivy liked her showers. Tilly grinned enthusiastically at yet another revelation. She enjoyed learning about the brunette by simple observation. It would be a beautiful scene to envision, or even capture in her art book, if she were to use fabrics for the fall of water…

Tilly could sense a running theme to focus on for her classwork.

Pulling the sheet from her head. Tilly glanced at the door, smiling at the idea that Ivy was behind it; and shaking her head to clear her thoughts, the blue-eyed girl glanced to the pocket-watch she kept on her nightstand; her smile brightening like the sun.

There on the small table was a bottle of chocolate milkshake with a post-it note attached to the plastic.

Small, cursive letters spelt out ‘ _Sorry_ ’ followed by a single ‘ _x_ ’.

And in that moment, Tilly felt like the happiest girl in the world.

 

Ivy didn’t hate her.


	3. Pretty Like Pretty

It was a Friday morning. Tilly knew this because she had been counting down to her first weekend; overly excited to spend all day exploring the town. Alas, that was tomorrow. Today was rainy; and the girl with honey in her hair woke up to torrential downpour slamming on her windows with heavy thrashes.

The dorm room was dark, shadows festered in every corner and crept up the walls like mould. Thick, black clouds knitted together across the vast expanse of grey sky, dauntingly handing above the school and as far as the eye could see. Raindrops whipped off the roof tiles almost dangerously entrancing. Tilly could hear the high-pitched shrieking of a stormy wind squeezing through the window frames, like the whistle of a boiling tea kettle.

Snatching her watch from the nightstand, Tilly figured which hand was pointing where.

It was only 6:55. Breakfast was at 8 and classes began at 9.

Blue eyes widened as a delirious grin spread upon her lips as the blonde threw back her bed sheets, bare feet quickly padding across to the chair where her coat had been haphazardly strewn, and Tilly pulled on her boots.

Many people hated the rain, and for reasons that Tilly could not comprehend. She adored the feeling of the raindrops soak her hair, mid-length lemon curls clinging to the back of her neck as the rain washed free the regret from her skin. Tilly liked leaving the negativity in the gutter after she’d washed it all off.

And with that, Tilly cast a glance to the brunette; still fast asleep with the blankets pooling around her waist… It was a pretty sight. Pretty like strong rainstorms. Pretty like delicate flowers. Pretty like stone statues. ‘ _Pretty like pretty,_ ’ Tilly decided gleefully in her mind as instinct drew her to pull the covers over Ivy shoulders before resuming her adventure.

Unlocking the window from their shared dormitory, Tilly balanced out on the ledge before hoisting herself up on the rafters before carefully closing the window behind her, lest Ivy got cold.

 

She didn’t go too far yet, content with letting her legs dangle in front of the window as Tilly could survey the whole foggy horizon. Up on the roof, she felt like a giant. Like the most significant person in the world, holding out her arms as she crouched on the tiles. The raindrops fell on her. The wind howled in her ears. Tilly felt special that way, the world could whisper to her, confide in her, and she could tell the world her secrets too.

From up there, she could see everything, the world was hers to see. But the girl frowned, she still couldn’t see the one thing that the rest of the school claimed to witness.

Why that Gregor boy was good enough for Ivy.

 

 

Dreams were supposed to be how your unconscious state deals with the events that your consciousness struggles with. Dreams can tell you what you want; what you miss; and what to be afraid of. To dream is to subconsciously slip through time and realms and for once, let the head and heart coexist instead of ignoring each other.

Her dreams took her to the very room that she was sleeping in; music might have been playing and Gregor had lifted the brunette onto her bed, his firm hands on her hips. She always loved the attention but this was a little too sudden, far too quick for her liking. He kissed down her neck as wandering, heavy hands began to grope.

“Gregor stop, I don’t want this yet,” her dream was slipping into a nightmare as the boy continued to kiss her, leaning onto her fragile body with his own stoic build, a tonne of muscle. Ivy pleaded, struggling against the sheets of her bed. She was about to cry out in protest; tears leaking from her gaze before the feeling changed. The body atop of hers was light and gentle, the hands on her hips invitingly pleasant.

Ivy tilted her head so that the kiss on her neck met her lips; before pulling back to grin at an amused blonde with excited blue eyes.

All of a sudden her dreamscape shifted to a new setting all together.

Ivy knew these walls; stone grey… dull… cold. Fluorescent lights flickered in horrible taunting intervals as a medical trolley carted down the hall, a squeaky wheel was the only noise besides the clattering of shoes on tile.

She was twelve… Ivy remembered that much as she gripped to the cuff of her fathers coat, Jacinda hanging off his other arm, running after her mother. The brunette could also remember that this was the first and last time she had been in a morgue.

“Let me see her!” her mothers voice was sharp and clear, barking orders as the staff parted for the family. A nurse tried to grab at her hand, pull her away from the scene, but Ivy wouldn’t let go of Marcus, at least, not until she had seen Ana, pale and almost translucent like ice. Her lips were blue and her body lifeless.

 

Ivy jolted awake suddenly, her heart beating faster than she count, and her palms were warm and sticky. She dried her hands on the bed covers feverishly, as she struggled to hold a breath for longer than three seconds at a time. Her head was a jumble of thoughts and Ivy didn’t know which to be more terrified of: her boyfriends forceful antics, the fact her boyfriend changed to Tilly and she liked it; or the one true event; the beginning of her mothers spiteful hatred.

No… she had dwelled on that too any times to count. It was a conversation never to bring up.

The young brunette slipped out of bed and tied her gown around her waist. It was 7:20, her alarm would go off in ten minutes, commanding her to get dressed in time for breakfast.

Her stomach flipped when Ivy glanced to Tilly’s bed, empty and messy. The covers were screwed up at the bottom of the bed and the pillow looked as if it was contemplating suicide, half hanging off the edge.

And Tilly was nowhere to be seen.

“Tilly?” Ivy cautiously called out, on edge in case the girl was hiding on purpose; as if jumping out to scare the Belfrey was a good idea of fun.

“Hiya Belfrey!” Tilly shouted enthusiastically, as she peered into the dorm room, hanging upside down from the rafters above the window, effectively causing the brunette to yelp in shock, turning on the spot to look up through the glass.

What was she doing? Hands resting on the window pane, Ivy frowned through the barrier of glass at her roommate that had seemingly forgotten what a room was. “What are you doing out there?!” It was miserable, windy, and bucketing it down with rain.

“It’s pretty!” The blonde shouted back, swinging from her perch to land expertly on the windowsill with an effortless grin as Ivy slid the window open. Pretty like you. Pretty like Pretty.

“It’s _raining_!” Ivy corrected in protest, wincing at the onslaught of raindrops blowing into the room as a soaking wet Tilly plopped down beside her. The brunette tucked her hands into the thick sleeves of her gown, rubbing at the girls cold arms. Did she not feel the cold? Or you know, the thousands of raindrops clinging to her hair, skin and clothes?

Tilly smiled widely, rocking back and forth on her feet. “Ain’t anything a little water can’t sooth!” She bared white teeth in a brilliant smile, kicking off her boots.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Belfrey responded, as she wandered into the bathroom to pull a crisp, thick towel from the cupboard, and returned, wrapping it around the girls soaking shoulders.

“Nothing really does, does it? Sense is overrated though, innit? Like… things that make no sense, _are_.” Tilly rambled, all of the words belonged in her mind, she could understand them in her head, but aloud, it sounded odd. Ivy wasn’t following. It was too early to go to the extremes of finding a Tilly translator.

So she stayed quiet. “Like… two things together could make no sense at all, till ya focus hard on one half.” Tilly continued in a daydream, before shaking back to reality. “The rain helps be make sense of things,” the blonde finally concluded, looking up at the brunette with a grin.

“Come on, get dry and get dressed. We’ll be late for breakfast.” Ivy mumbled, her concern melting easily into a practiced nonchalant stare. And with that, she swept into the bathroom with her uniform and makeup kit.

 

* * *

 

 

“Babe! Hey, babe!” Gregor caught up in the breakfast line in the cafeteria, arms swinging in a persistent jog. Tilly glanced up at the boy, ten inches taller than the brunette in front of her, seemingly undeterred by her boyfriends presence as she picked up a smoothie.

“Good morning, G,” Ivy spared a small glance over her shoulder as she continued moving and the jock hurried to keep ahead, arms moving dramatically as he spoke.

“Look, Ive, I’m sorry about yesterday, I know I was acting like a… a total sharks butt,” Gregor apologized, a sympathetic, pleading gaze drifting from the headmistress’ daughter to her trailing companion.

Tilly wanted to badly to throw her orange at him.

She didn’t know what he had done to have to beg for forgiveness from the attractive brunette, but anyone who had to say sorry, had to have done something wrong.

“It’s okay… you can make it up to me though… right?” Ivy turned her attentive, wide and innocent gaze to the jock, a slim smile gracing her lips remembering that she was meant to be happy with her boyfriend… that’s what boyfriends were for. Weren’t they?

“Anything!” he promised, glad to be getting somewhere.

The brunette grinned ever so slightly, turning to look at Tilly, who was being oddly quiet throughout this whole scenario. “She sits with us now,”. Her words shocked both of the students who exchanged confused glances before staring back at Ivy.

 Gregor cleared his throat before nodding, is easy and charming grin returning. “Sure,” And with that, he returned to his team mates.

“What was that ‘bout?” Tilly fell into step beside Ivy after snatching a muffin off the tray, watching as Belfrey simply shrugged. “Trouble in paradise?” she found herself smirking as she skipped along.

Ivy rolled her eyes, hinting Tilly in the direction of her usual table, “I don’t know the meaning of Paradise,” She dismissed, as if she didn’t care at all that she might be wasting her time, being the schools happy couple without being happy.

Tilly held her breath, just stealing a moment to watch the brunette tuck a long strand of chestnut hair behind her own ear, observing the life in her cheeks in the form of a sweet, natural blush.

_I’ll show you Paradise. Pretty Paradise. I promise_


End file.
